Archive for October 2011

Nothing on Craigdarroch Castle’sofficial website will tell you it’s haunted. The 1890 treasure is simply hailed “Victoria, British Columbia’s legendary landmark.” It’s when you begin talking to the locals– and even people who work within its lavish walls– that you begin to hear secret tales of its 39 rooms, 87 steps, 4 floors, 18 fireplaces, tower, and tormented past.

In short, the castle was built for coal baron Robert Dunsmuir as an outrageous momument to his wealth, but he died shortly before building was completed. The architect, Warren Heywood Williams, who called Craigdarroch his masterpiece, also mysteriously died before the castle was finished. The widow Joan Dunsmuir lived there with her sons in a turbulent state. And in 1917, the structure was turned into a military hospital. There are tales of ghostly piano music along with the sudden smell of candle wax, apparitions of children and soldiers, icy drafts blanketing the stairways. (I remember visiting the castle several years ago as a tourist, and one woman refused to go up the steps in a certain area of the castle, sensing a strange presence around her.)

When producer/writer/filmmaker Jordan Stratford invited me to perform at the castle last month as part of his great Victoria Steam Expo, it fulfilled a wish I made when I first visited. This was an ideal location for my “spontaneous musical combustion”— composing works on the spot in front of the audience, manifesting the musical spirit within the location itself. Every place has a story, every object holds music. My job is to be the gatekeeper, and open the portal.

I talked with the compelling historian/speaker Chris Adams at the Expo’s opening night absinthe party. His family operates the long-running Victoria “Ghostly Walks“ tour. Later, I curled up in bed at Hotel Rialto skimming ghostlore and history books.

As always, when I channel music in unusual locales, I begin to familiarize myself with the back story. But, that’s the trick. I don’t want to know TOO much, just enough to whet my intrigue, and share stories with the audience– but NOT so much that I formulate ideas or draw conclusions. “Preparation” would ruin it. My actions must be genuine, immediate. I want to honor the fragility of time, emotion, and find the music hiding within that moment. I just immerse myself into it, I don’t question it. If you purposely go looking for it, analyzing it, and beckoning it, you’ve lost it forever.

That rule applies for many things in life…

I was drawn to one particular Steinway grand in the front parlour. I played other pianos in the castle, but I kept coming back to this one. I knew it. It was familiar. I saw Facebook posts the next day that said it felt like I had been “reacquainted with a long-lost lover, and there was a sense of almost voyeurism from those who watched me.”

I could feel the piano ecstatic to be played again–even the castle staff commented on an odd sense of elation in that room. It made me sad when they told me this piano is never played, and I vowed to give it the attention it needed. At one point during my set, unbeknownst to me, a small red lamp on a table behind me dimmed, and came back on several times. Two psychics in the crowd said they felt the presence of a woman sitting in a chair to my left.

Due to popular demand, I returned Sunday for performances throughout the afternoon. And in the end, I hated having to leave that Steinway– and Victoria.

My goal with “spontaneous musical combustion” (and Musical Seances with Paul Mercer) is not to communicate with the dead, as that is not what I do. If spirit energy makes itself present, as it sometimes does in these shows, that’s lovely. I believe music transcends realms and worlds beyond the flesh. Perhaps that’s why they call it the “spirit of the music.” I’m capturing the combined energy of our moment together in this place–scoring it– a piece of music that will exist for that moment only and then completely vanish. Nothing exactly like it can ever exist again. The fragile essence of Time. The marvel of being alive.

Over afternoon tea, photographer Audrey Penven and I confessed we were obsessed with staircases. Claustrophobic and caged, these transitional spaces are disconnected from the spaces they connect. Designed for the shape of human movement, they contain many small levels, each leading to the next moment. Vital in the journey, but most often disregarded.

I always felt like doorways and staircases held the most secrets. The immediacy of emotion carried from one place to another. It’s never the destination: No one stays too long.

As a child, I remember a tiny doorway guarding a large black void under stairs descending to the basement. My father referred to it as the “crawlspace.” There was nothing in there, no one ever went in there. I was terrified of it, almost to a point of reverence.

Audrey and I began searching for the perfect location. But that was just it, we wanted to shoot in darkness–so that meant we had to find an empty staircase, inside, elegant, with no foot traffic–that was ornate with ironwork, but no patterns on the walls or steps. No small task.

We wanted to play with shadow. I mentioned to Audrey that I loved the idea of incorporating lace textures, perhaps shoot through lace. She had the incredible idea to project actual lace onto the entire shot. She wasn’t sure exactly how this would be done– so I’m honored to say that Audrey and Mike Esteeactually invented a projection device for this very photo shoot. You can read about its last minute creation in detail on Mike’s blog, and Audrey discusses the challenges of the process on her site. I love the fact that a new invention exists because of this project!

We got a lead on a staircase that sounded ideal–in a well known downtown San Francisco office building. We’d have to sneak in late at night though, black out the ugly florescent lights in the stairwell, and make sure no one sees us… This entire series of portraits with intricate projection experiments was created stealth, with next to no prep time, and in only a couple of hours.

That’s why I am even more thrilled with these portraits and want to share the backstory. These are some of the most captivating shots I can recall, and there was no crew, professional sets, or elaborate lighting fixtures. All were created by Audrey alone, adjusting one tiny light source again and again, in the wee hours, hiding in a third floor office stairwell, hoping no one would walk through!
Maybe that’s why they evoke such suspense…

Due to the fragility of the lace “slides” and the heat of the bulb, the lace could not be constantly projected on the walls behind me, so neither of us knew where the lace fell until we looked at the shots. It’s not Photoshop, this is what happened live. Trial and error. That’s why it made it all the more special to see these beautiful results. We literally had no idea.

As you have seen, one of the shots has even become the landing page for the new website. It’s the perfect portal. Behind the bars– am I keeping you out? Am I the one trapped within? Do you dare enter my world? There is such mysterious tension and allure with this photo. It beckons, yet…

Many thanks to Eli Rosseter and Aaron Muszalskifor being our assistants and guardian angels.